Never a Dull Moment
by criminally charmed
Summary: Six points of view.  Six ways one person can change the world around them.  It may be big, it may be small - but with Alan Tracy there was Never a Dull Moment.  Happy Birthday to Sammygirl1963.  NOTE - Some agnst, with fluff.  Possible diabetic warning.
1. Chapter 1

**Never a Dull Moment**

**by Criminally Charmed**

_**Disclaimer - I don't own the Thunderbirds. Duh.**_

**__****This was supposed to be up on the 18th for Sammygirl1963's birthday - I AM SOOOOO SORRY! Each update will be on Wednesdays, starting next week. Six chapters for six Tracys.**

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**Chapter One – Jeff**

_Jeff Tracy looked at the interviewer with indulgent eyes. "So," he said. "You are writing about Alan – my son, Alan – and how he changed lives. Well, all my boys changed my life for the better. But Alan did, just by his birth, change many lives. How? In order to explain, I have to start with the day he was born…"_

"C'mon, Lucy!" Jeff encouraged his wife, kissing her on the top of her head. "You can do this!"

Lucy Tracy looked up at her husband. "I swear to god, Jefferson Grant Tracy, you ever lay a hand on me again, I'll rip it off and shove it down your throat."

"Um, Lucy, I need both of my hands to work," Jeff tried to joke.

Glaring at him, Lucy breathed through the latest wave of pain as she tried to push her latest child – gender still unknown – into the world. "What," she gasped out, "makes you think I meant a hand?"

Gulping slightly, Jeff tried to remain supportive. Lucy, on the other hand, glared at her obstetrician.

"I thought," she gasped through yet another reminder of why men would never survive giving birth, "that labor was supposed to be easier with each baby?"

"Well, Lucy," Dr. Sam Adams reminded her, "it has been five years since Gordon's birth and with the accident and the c-section with Gordon; you actually haven't given birth vaginally since Virgil. That's seven years."

"Scott was easier than this!" Lucy snapped.

"So this just might be a girl after all!" Jeff joked.

Glaring at her husband, Lucy growled, "You better hope this is your Christina. Because if this is a fifth son, you are not getting another chance to prove you can make a girl."

Jeff's gulp was far more noticeable this time. Leaning in close, he reminded himself that his wife loved him and that while he was more than willing to wait for him to make an appointment for – how did his wife phrase it? A quick caught up in his thoughts, Jeff barely noticed that they were in the home stretch until Lucy groaned and gripped his hand so tightly he was sure not a drop of blood was circulating in that limb.

"Alright, Lucy," Dr. Adams grinned behind his mask. "Here comes baby number five and it's a – wow. Shocker." He looked up at the couple. "A boy."

Lucy chuckled while Jeff tried to hide his disappointment. He really had hoped for a girl this time –

Both Lucy's amusement and Jeff's disappointment faded when Dr. Adams didn't place the newborn on Lucy's stomach as they had the first three times. And even when Gordon was born, the obstetrician had held the baby close to Lucy's face so she could see her son. All four times, all of the mother's fears faded with the first cry of the newborn.

The silence was going on far too long.

_Please God, _Jeff prayed_._ _Just let the baby be alright. Please. I know I kept saying I wanted a girl. Every other time I said I didn't care, just as long as it was healthy. Please let my son be – _

The baby's piercing cry echoed through the delivery room, causing the parents to begin crying in gratitude. Dr. Adams came back over, smiling at Lucy as he held out the boy, swaddled in a light blue blanket.

"Little guy gave us a bit of a scare there, didn't he," the OB chuckled.

Reverently touching the blonde curls on the baby's head, Jeff bit his lip as tears welled in his eyes. "He's perfect, Luc," Jeff whispered.

"Still going with Mercury Seven astronauts?" Dr. Adams asked.

Jeff nodded. "Well, there is Walter Schirra."

Before Lucy could say anything, the baby's eyes popped open and he wailed loudly. "I think," Lucy cracked, "that he doesn't like it."

"OK, OK!" Jeff said over the baby's loud cries. "There was also Alan Sheppard."

Instantly, the baby stopped crying, gulping and staring up his parents with wide blue eyes. Cooing softly, Jeff marveled at the rapid change in his newest son's temper. Brushing baby Alan's cheek, Jeff kissed the top of Lucy's head. "I think he likes it."

Smiling in joy, Lucy raised Alan so that she could kiss his downy hair. "Yes, Rocket Man – I think Alan Sheppard Tracy will do nicely."

"You are still getting snipped," she muttered to Jeff.

_

* * *

_

If you asked me later,

Jeff told the interviewer, _I never knew what brought me back to the hospital. Lucy was asleep and Alan was supposed to be as well. The babies at that hospital had something called "rooming", where the newborn was given a bassinette in the mother's room. It was supposed to help with the bonding._

_Unlike other visitors, the fathers were allowed to come and go as they pleased. Some even chose to sleep in a sleeper lounger with their families. But I had four other sons there and my mother wasn't going to arrive until that evening. Ann-Marie, who worked for me for a couple of years by that point, was staying at the house until Mom got there to give me the freedom to be with Lucy and Alan. I couldn't sleep, feeling like one of my sons needed me._

_I had checked on my oldest four multiple times before Scott muttered, "Dad, we're fine. Please go to sleep."_

_I tried. I swear! But then I found myself driving back to the hospital. Once there, I checked on Lucy. The birth had been hard on her and Dr. Adams had given her something to help her sleep. Then I turned to check on Alan…_

Jeff smiled as he bent down by Alan's bassinet. The newest Tracy son might be a boy but he was Lucy all over. The golden locks, the bright blue eyes – the temper was his wife to a T.

Suddenly, Jeff stood up straight. Alan's breathing wasn't the same even tempo that Jeff recalled from each of his other sons. Hurriedly, Jeff rushed over to Lucy's bedside and pushed the nurse call button. In less than a minute, a nurse came into the room.

"Mr. Tracy," she spoke softly. "Is everything alright with Mrs. Tracy?"

"Lucy's fine," Jeff said. "It's Alan. Something is wrong with Alan."

The nurse smiled indulgently. She was used to new parents worrying, but really – Jeff Tracy had four other children at home. Leaning over the bassinet her smile quickly turned to a frown. Moving as quickly as Jeff had she pressed the Nurse Call to contact the station.

"Helen, page Dr. Nichols." Looking over at Jeff, the nurse tried to keep her worry off her face. "It's probably nothing, Mr. Tracy. But Alan's breathing -"

"Is off," Jeff interrupted. "Miss, I have four other sons. I have sat by their cribs and bedsides. I know when something is wrong with one of my boys."

Before either of them could say anything else, a young doctor came into the room. She headed directly to Alan's bassinet. "OK, young man," she smiled as she bent down. "Angie wants me to take a peek at…you -" Her voice trailed off as she started to listen to Alan's heart and lungs with her stethoscope.

Looking over at the nurse, Dr. Nichols nodded. "Activate NICU, Angie."

As hospital personnel began to enter the room, pushing in equipment and preparing to transfer Alan, Lucy stirred in her bed. Blinking sleepily, she looked at the medical personnel surrounding her baby.

"Jeff?" Lucy cried in panic. "What's going on? What are they doing with our baby?"

Sitting beside her, Jeff pulled his wife in close. "I don't know, Luc. I just don't know."

_

* * *

_

I sat with Lucy until the doctor came back. She wasn't alone. Dr. Adams was with her. They were running tests but it looked like Alan might have a respiratory infection. Dr. Nichols looked me straight in the eye and told me that if I hadn't checked on Alan when I had, it might have been too late by the time the nurses did their rounds. We couldn't blame the nurses. Alan had appeared completely healthy; there was no reason for anyone to assume there was anything wrong with our son.

_Days passed and Lucy and I spent as much time as we could with Alan. After forty-eight hours, Alan was brought back from the Newborn Intensive Care Unit to a step down unit. Lucy, who had been discharged by then, was allowed to stay in the room since she was breast feeding. Alan was allowed out of the monitoring bassinette – kind of a version of an incubator but with more freedom to interact with people – for the feeding but for limited times. Both of us had to wear sterile clothing for the first forty-eight hours when Alan was in the NICU – I was glad to drop those when he was in the step down unit._

_While Alan was in the hospital, the boys couldn't see him. Usually, that would have been allowed. But because of the added precautions, only children over age ten could be in there. Scott was the only one old enough. My mother gathered the middle three boys in front of a viewing window. I can still see John's wide eyes, Virgil's smile and Gordon's nose pressed against the glass. But it was Scott, decked out in the smallest scrubs they could find, rolled up so he wouldn't trip and could use his hands, that I remember the most. _

_I removed Alan from the monitoring bed, careful of the wires that were hooked up to monitor his heart and lungs and placed the baby in Scott's arms. As I guided them to a rocking chair that Lucy used when feeding the baby, I had most of my focus on Alan. But it would be the wonder and joy in Scott's eyes that I would carry with me…_

"Dad," Scott said softly. "Look at him. It's like he knows me."

Alan's wide blue eyes were fixed on Scott's face. Babies that age were not supposed to be able to focus. Babies that age shouldn't be able to recognize anyone. Babies that age couldn't smile. And yet as Alan sighed in contentment and his face relaxed, cuddling into Scott's chest, Jeff smiled as he looked over at Lucy. There was no doubt in their minds that their son loved and would protect his brothers. But this one would be forever entrenched in Scott's heart. If Alan had the ability to speak at that moment, he could ask Scott for the world and the big brother would find a way to give it to him.

_

* * *

_

We took Alan home more than a week after his birth. He seemed to catch every cold, every sniffle, for almost all of his first year. Then, around his birthday, it just stopped. Lucy joked it was because he had gone from crawling to running about that time and Alan would see being sick as something that would slow him down.

_Yes, I said running. Alan never walked where he could run in his life, what makes you think he was any different as a baby?_

_But you wanted to know how Alan changed lives? Well, that would come almost a decade later –_

Jeff came home to the New York apartment and saw Virgil coming out of the kitchen.

"Dishes are done, Dad," Virgil spoke softly. "I left some dinner for you in the fridge. Do you want me to heat it up for you?"

"In a minute, Virgil," Jeff said absently. "Sorry I ran so late." Looking around the neat and orderly apartment, he smiled. "You know, I can hire a housekeeper."

Virgil shrugged. "We're only here for the summer. Scott is in the Air Force, John at Harvard and I'll be heading to Princeton in the fall. With Gordon at school, you'll be taking Alan to the island. Why hire someone for a few months?"

Jeff nodded, knowing his son was right. Both before and after Lucy's death, he had always insisted that his sons know how to look after themselves. They had chores to do and could even cook for themselves.

Well, except for Scott. The boy loved to eat but was a menace to kitchens everywhere. Jeff had allowed himself a small smile as he thought of his oldest. But seeing the last phone message, he paused.

"Virgil?" When his son turned back to face him, Jeff continued. "When did Dr. Adams call?"

"I wrote it down, Dad," Virgil said. "It was only a few minutes ago." A look of concern crossed his face. "Nothings wrong, is it Dad?"

Confused, Jeff let out a small chuckle when he guessed what Virgil meant. "Virgil, he isn't my doctor. That was the obstetrician who delivered you, Gordon and Alan."

"Unless there is something I don't know Dad, I have to ask – What's up with that?"

Walking towards his study, Jeff shrugged. "I won't know until I call. Say – where are Alan and Gordon?"

"Gordon took the Sprout to a movie. I figured we both could use a few hours of quiet. You have only forty minutes left since you were late."

Jeff chuckled once more. Alan might be the most like Lucy but there were times each of his boys could channel their late mother –

_

* * *

_

So I called Dr. Adams. After some casual chatter about the boys, Sam came to the point. Dr. Abby Nicholson, the pediatrician who had cared for Alan after his respiratory infection, had been intrigued by his son's case. Dr. Adams had related how Alan had had trouble breathing for a moment when he was first born due to inhaling amniotic fluid. Some of the samples taken from the newborn after he was placed in the NICU showed the infection had a basis in the fluid.

_It had taken Dr. Nicholson ten years of research, mainly on her own due to the fact that a gut instinct wasn't something many people were willing to invest in, but she had discovered a link between babies who inhaled a larger amount of the fluid then most typically would and certain cases of SIDS – Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. _

_Dr. Nicholson was about to publish her work. She would list Alan as Baby Boy A but she wanted me to know in case the information of who the baby was ever came out. It was unlikely but given the way the media followed the Tracys like rabid hounds she was just covering all bases. I found myself agreeing as long as she did everything possible to hide Alan's identity._

_Sitting there in the fading summer light, I touched a picture of Lucy holding Alan, surrounded by the other four boys. It was the day we finally brought our baby home. I had always known that Alan had been at risk but I never appreciated how much until now. I had read between the lines of what Dr. Adams had told me. If I hadn't gone back to the hospital that night, Alan probably would have died – another statistic of SIDS._

The sound of a door slamming shut and raised, excited voices drew Jeff to his surroundings. Standing, Jeff moved to the door and swung it open.

Alan was excitedly telling Virgil about the sci-fi thriller they had just seen when suddenly he found himself turned around and pulled into a smothering hug.

"Um, Daddy – are you OK?"

Jeff sat heavily on the couch as his shaking knees would no longer hold him. Pulling Alan so that the ten year old was sitting beside him, he put his arm around his youngest and kissed the top of his head.

"I'm fine, Alan," Jeff said quietly, relieved beyond measure that Lucy's last gift to him had not been taken from him, either at birth or later when he had lost the love of his life. "So," Jeff looked at his three sons, "what are you three doing for the rest of the night?"

"Well," Virgil said, "Al's bedtime is in a half hour and I have some sketches I wanted to work on. Not sure about Fish-face here."

Before Gordon could object to the nickname, Jeff gave a one-armed hug once more and said, "How about the four of us play some board games? Some family time."

Gordon looked confused. "Dad, don't you have some work to do?"

Thinking of the files on his desk and the unreturned phone calls, Jeff mentally pushed them aside. "Not tonight."

Virgil grinned. "Al, you and Gordy get the board games. I'll get some snacks. Dad?"

Jeff smiled at his sons. "I'll help you in the kitchen, Virgil. And just so you guys know – no bed times tonight, OK?"

Alan, the only one who had an early bedtime, whooped with joy and ran to follow Gordon to get the games. It wasn't often Daddy wanted to play with them these days and Alan was delighted to get as much time as he could.

Jeff went to follow Virgil to the kitchen, silently thanking God for his boys – his true treasures.

_The article by Dr. Nicholson led to some added research, perfecting a quick test that was done on newborns. That same infection that could have killed Alan would later be credited – or is it blamed – for as many as one of five cases of SIDS. Thanks to the test, antibiotics could now be started on the infected babies. Thousands of children who could have died before they could have ever lived are now alive and well. Dr. Nicholson later said when she was being touted for her ground breaking research that if it hadn't been for Baby Boy A she would have accepted a position at a family practice clinic and never done her research. So you see, if not for Alan Tracy, thousands of other babies would not have the chance they now have._

_Besides all that? With Alan around, there is never a dull moment. But you knew that, didn't you? _

* * *

_**A/N - Like I said, one of six. Scott will be here next week. BTW - SIDS is a tragedy and, sadly, a mystery. We can only hope that researchers will find something in the future. So yes, that is made up. Fan FICTION, remember? **_

_**Tomorrow (maybe Saturday) for next chapter of Alan and John...Next week for more of this. - CC**_


	2. Scott

**Never a Dull Moment**

**by Criminally Charmed**

_**Disclaimer - See Chapter One**_

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Chapter two – Scott

_Scott Tracy handed the interviewer a glass of lemonade. "How did Alan change my life or life in general? Well, I guess I could say both."_

_Sitting down, he smiled in memory. "Alan could wrap me around his finger from the day he was born. Not even my boys ever managed that. I mean, I love my sons more than I can ever say. But Alan? I loved my brothers, all of them, but Alan seemed so helpless. I wanted to protect him."_

"_For the first year of Alan's life, he was constantly getting sick. It wasn't easy for our parents. They had four other kids and Dad was busy with Tracy Enterprises. So I did my best to help when I could. Even when I all I was doing was watching Alan so Mom could catch her breath."_

"_Around Alan's first birthday, he seemed to just stop getting sick, a relief to all of us. The next few months were a bit easier. I appreciated the ease up around the house as I had discovered two things. That I really was enjoying baseball and that girl were different than boys. I also realized that girls – well, most girls – loved babies. So I started taking Alan for walks after school on days I didn't have baseball practice."_

"_It was about six months later that things really started to change. I was just shy of my thirteenth birthday and in middle school. Being at a different school than any of my siblings for the first time since first grade was kinda cool, in an almost liberating manner." _

"_November 3__rd__. That was a date I can never forget. I always flinch when I think of it."_

* * *

Looking out the window, Scott Tracy tried not to sigh. It was a beautiful day. There were not going to be many more days like this until next year. Soon, cold winds would blow down from the north and snow would begin to cover the Kansas plains. On the one hand, it was kinda cool. Dad always tried to take more time off around the holidays. And Alan would be old enough to really appreciate Christmas this year. Last year, he had sniffled a lot and watched the lights. Not all that interesting.

Leaning back in his chair as Mr. O'Neill droned on and on about the alleged depth and feelings of American poets, Scott caught the eye of Marie King and winked when she giggled at him. Perfecting his "innocent" look when the Language Arts teacher glanced over at him, Scott went back to the far more interesting study of his female classmates as soon as Mr. O'Neill continued his lecture which, Jeff Tracy had assured his oldest son, hadn't change since the man had been _his _teacher.

Scott sat up when Ms. Lee's voice came over the intercom.

"_Attention, students. As many of you are aware, the extension project has been trying to wrap up before the inclement weather sets in."_

"No kidding," Scott muttered_. _The whole school had been tossed into disarray by the construction project.

"_Unfortunately," _Ms. Lee droned on, _"the backhoe has cut the waterline and we can not have the students here without running water."_ As the students cheered, the principal continued. _"We have been assured that we can reopen on Monday."_

"Cool," Scott nudged Jeannie Bates, his long-time friend and teammate on the baseball team. "Long weekend."

"Cool for you," Jeannie grumbled. "You get to spend time with your little brother. I get to spend time working at the diner with Mama."

Scott laughed, knowing that Jeannie really didn't mind any more than he minded caring for Alan. It would be nice to be like a lot of their classmates but they had accepted their families needed them.

"Hey losers," Keiffer Dutton pushed past them, sneering at the pair. "Have fun working away your free time."

"What a jerk," Scott muttered. "Thinks he's such a big deal."

"Not since your father moved back to Bailey," Jeannie shrugged. "Why do you think he hates you so much?"

"He hates me?" Scott joked as he climbed on his bike. "I couldn't tell. But you know what Grandma says – Boys like that always get their just desserts."

Jeannie laughed as she got on her own bike and the two rode towards Millie's Diner, her mother's business – and above it, the home she shared with her mother ever since they had moved back to Bailey after her father's death.

As they pulled up in front of the diner, Jeannie climbed off her bike and looked at Scott. "Hey, Ace – wanna come in for some pie? Mama was baking before I left for school."

"Your mom is always baking," Scott joked. "Nah. I'll head home and see if Mom wants a break from the whirlwind."

"PLEASE," Jeannie whined. "Hurry back. Otherwise Mama will get it into her head that I need to learn to cook again. I don't mind the basics, but when she gets into baking, it gives me the willies."

Scott laughed again and headed down the road towards his family's home. Maybe he could combine giving his mom a break with doing something just for himself by getting Miss Millie to watch Alan for a little while and he and Jeannie could do some batting practice. He loved his youngest brother and had since the kid had first been placed in his arms, but sometimes Scott just wanted to be a kid as well.

* * *

Thomas Joseph "TJ" Adair sat in the idling car, keeping an eye on the front lawn of the two story house across the street. He could see Lucy Tracy doing yard work, covering up plants with burlap sacks and packing in mulch. But he was far more interested in the baby sleeping in the playpen.

They had hoped to follow the wife of Jeff Tracy around and select an opportunity to snatch the baby. Adair could recall the when the birth of the fifth son had been announced, followed with the news leaking out of a health crisis for the newborn. Not much had been heard of the baby boy, named Alan by his parents, since then, although hanging around the town of Bailey, birthplace of both Jeff Tracy and his youngest, gossip spread of the baby being repeatedly ill for the first year of his life. Supposedly, however, the infant was much healthier these days.

Adair was, by vocation, a truck driver and often found work delivering produce, which had more work during the warmer months. Part of the reason he had trouble staying employed was sitting next to him. Jeremiah "Paulie" Paulson had been Adair's best friend since they were children. And even though Adair tried to stay out of trouble, Paulie was always looking for "his" lucky break and rarely took the legal path to try and get what he saw as his due.

It had been Paulie's idea to try and snatch the baby last year, but when Adair had picked up on the gossip about how Alan Tracy was constantly sick, it hadn't been hard for him to convince Paulie that kidnapping a sickly baby would be more work than it was worth. He had hoped that his old friend would go back to running scams or the occasional convenience store robbery.

"OK," Paulie said as he kept an eye on the Tracy mother. "The older boys will all be at school until after two, Jeff Tracy should be at work until after five. What about the grandparents?"

"The second youngest boy, um, Gordon," Adair said looking at his notes, "qualified for a state swim meet. The grandparents went with him to Topeka."

"Small town gossip is great, ain't it, TJ?"

Adair gave a small nod as they got out of the car and moved towards a hedge closer to the Tracy house. All they needed was a moment of distraction.

* * *

Lucy Tracy smiled at the sight of her baby asleep in the playpen. Her little "surprise" was certainly a whirlwind so she was quick to take advantage of moments like this. Pulling off her gloves, Lucy dropped them in her gardening bag so that she could run her supplies into the house. Looking at her watch, she knew if she were to wake Alan, she could wash up a bit in the bathroom near the kitchen while he was playing in his highchair. Glad that she had had the foresight to set up lunch before coming out to the yard, Lucy leaned back to release a kink in her back as she sighed. It really was a beautiful day, a rare Indian Summer day for November.

Brushing the back of her hand over Alan's cheek, the mother of five whispered, "I'll be right back, baby. Then we'll have some lunch and soon it will be time to get your brothers."

As Lucy headed back into the house, she smiled at the realization she only had two sons to pick up today. Scott had ridden his bike into school today as he wanted to take advantage of the last of the nice weather. She wouldn't be surprised if he called later from Millie's diner to ask for permission to have some batting practice with Jeannie. Sometimes Lucy wondered if Scott and Jeannie's friendship would blossom into something more, but then she would see Jeff and Millie together and realized that the friendship was merely moving onto a second generation.

* * *

Paulie looked smug. "Alright," he smirked. "Here's our chance."

TJ Adair rolled his eyes. Obviously this was the chance they were waiting for. The trucker had never known someone who could so clearly state the obvious, except maybe his ex Trennie. He knew there was a reason she drove him nuts. But he pushed all thoughts of his exasperating former lover as he rushed up the house – and the helpless, sleeping Tracy baby.

Scott Tracy practically flew down the road. Since he had his bike today, Mom knew he didn't need picked up when the middle school let out at two o'clock. And since she only had John and Virgil to pick up at two thirty, she might decide to run errands either before or after she got them. He wished once more Dad would let him have a cell phone. He wouldn't even mind one with a bunch of restrictions on it.

Of course, Dad would have probably told him he could have called from the diner. Miss Millie would have let him use her phone to let Mom know he was coming home early. But still he wished he could have called. Scott didn't know what was bothering him, but he had the strongest urge to be with his brother. Somehow he knew Allie needed him.

Coming over the crest, Scott smiled at the sight of his home. There weren't a lot of houses in the neighborhood; their only really close neighbors were the Woodburys. So the old dark blue sedan parked just out of sight of his front lawn made the almost-a-teenager frown.

But it was the two men move quickly across that lawn that caused Scott's heart to choke the breath from his body. He couldn't see his mother but he certainly could see where the men were headed.

Straight towards his defenseless baby brother.

* * *

TJ Adair moved quickly towards the sleeping baby, hoping he could grab the boy so that no one would get hurt. Just as he reached the playpen, Adair noticed that Paulie had pulled a switchblade from his pocket.

"Paulie," Adair hissed as he leaned into the playpen. "Put that away before someone gets hurt."

"That's good advice."

The youthful voice, filled with anger, made them freeze and turn to see a furious Scott Tracy standing close to them.

"Get away from my little brother before you get hurt," Scott hissed, his bike abandoned at the edge of the lawn, the baseball bat he had secured to his bike in anticipation of getting in some batting practice, now clutched in his hands in a threatening manner.

"Look at the little boy, TJ," Paulie grinned. "He's gonna play the hero – OOF!" The breath was pushed from his body when Scott swung the bat into his gut. "You – you little bas – OW!" Paulie screamed when the bat connected with his right knee, forcing him to drop to the ground.

"My parents were married long before my birth," Scott said coldly. "Use the right words."

Paulie forced himself up, slicing the air – and Scott's arm – with his switchblade. "You son of a bitch!" he bellowed.

"Wrong words - my Mom is a nice lady" Scott continued in the same cool voice, ignoring the pain from his arm and forcing himself to hold firm. _"Where's Mom?" _he thought frantically as he tried to buy time for himself and Alan.

As if his thoughts had conjured her, Lucy Tracy reappeared in the doorway, her bright blue eyes wide with shock. She quickly overcame her stupor, grabbing a shovel she had been using for the mulch and running to her sons' side. "Get away from my sons!" she screamed, swinging the tool at Paulie's head and knocking him down.

Adair may have been not always been the brightest bulb on the family tree, but he knew when to cut and run. Grabbing Paulie out of a sense of the same misplaced feelings of loyalty that had cursed him for years as far as his friendship with the miscreant was concerned, Adair raced down the hill practically dragging the injured man.

As the rush of adrenaline left Scott's body, he found himself dropping to his knees as he looked over at his arm and saw the bleeding gash. At that moment, Scott saw his mother kneel beside him.

"Scotty? Honey, are you – oh, of course you aren't OK. Let me see your arm." Lucy pulled the light sweater she was wearing off and pressed it to her firstborn's left arm, securing it with its own sleeves. "I – I have to call 911 -" she said in a raised voice as Alan had awakened and was now fussing in fear and confusion.

"Mom, give me Alan," Scott said with a great deal more calm than he felt. When Lucy hesitated, he channeled as much of his dad as he could. "Please, Mom, he needs me and I need to make sure he is OK."

Lucy nodded tightly, trying to hold back the tears that were gathering in her eyes. Picking up her baby, she placed the toddler in his brother's arms. Racing back into the house, Lucy grabbed the cordless phone and ran back to the yard, breathlessly explaining the situation before hanging up against the orders of the emergency operator. She had an equally important call to make.

* * *

Jeff Tracy set aside another file and glared at his in-box. He would swear in a court of law the damn things were breeding. Ann-Marie, his secretary for the last few years, entered the office, chuckling at the look on his face.

"You wouldn't be quite so intimidating in business meetings if your opponents could see you pouting like you were Alan's age."

Grinning, Jeff joked, "Alan? I don't even make it to Gordon's age?"

Before Ann-Marie could respond Jeff's personal cell phone rang. When he looked down and saw it was Lucy, he smiled. It was too early for her to have picked up the older boys, his parents had Gordon, so that left Alan. He wondered if the baby had said a new word

"Hi Luc -"

Jeff had barely got that out when his wife began to frantically speak. Ann-Marie couldn't understand the words, but she knew the tone – something was seriously wrong. The assistant began to plan how to cancel the rest of Jeff's afternoon.

Seeing Ann-Marie wave him on, Jeff didn't even bother to grab his suit coat on the back of his chair as he ran out the door, still trying to calm Lucy on the other end of the phone…

* * *

"_It was pretty crazy," Scott said softly. "Mom was sitting on the front step, holding me and Alan. My arm was hurting and I wanted to bawl. But Mom was semi-hysterical and Allie kept sniffling. He knew something was wrong so I tried to hold it together for my family."_

"_Dad came roaring up the same time as the cops and paramedics. Considering he had further to go, I was impressed. Virgil and John came home a few minutes later, to Dad holding Alan, Mom trying to keep an eye on all of us and me getting my arm treated."_

John and Virgil Tracy hadn't thought anything of it when Ann-Marie Thompson had picked them up, even if it was a little before school was supposed to be out. She had before when Dad was busy and Alan had been sick. Luckily, John had remembered they were supposed to take Sarah Jane Woodbury with them. Sarah Jane's father was away on business for Jeff Tracy and her mother was escorting her older daughter to a beauty pageant.

But as they pulled up to the house, they understood Ann-Marie's tension. Leaping from the car even as it came to a halt, the brothers ran frantically towards their family, Sarah Jane hot on their tail.

"Mom, Dad!" John called out, rushing up to his parents and picking up Alan's hand. The toddler was still upset. He didn't like all the noise and the strangers. Sniffling, the little boy put his head into Jeff's chest and snuggled. Jeff just put his arms closer around Alan as if he could protect his baby from everything.

Virgil had run over to where a paramedic had finished gently peeling away his mother's blood soaked sweater from Scott's arm. Seeing the bleeding gash on his oldest brother's arm, the middle Tracy son almost fainted until he became fascinated with the medics' treatment. The men indulged the boy, answering his questions on what they were doing. Both medics felt it was easier than have to deal with the kid passing out.

"Scotty! Scotty!" Alan called out from Jeff's arms, stretching his own arms to his oldest brother. Jeff moved closer to where the paramedics were treating Scott, as one was telling Lucy that the cut would need stitches and the twelve ("Almost thirteen") year old needed to have a doctor check it over.

Sarah Jane stood off to the side, edging closer before touching Alan's hand. The little boy turned and smiled at the girl he saw as a sister. "Hey, Allie – you okey-dokey, baby?"

The toddler smiled at her, with Jeff trying to relax as they prepared to head to town in order for Scott and Alan to be checked out. But just as they all headed for Lucy's mini-van, the Sheriff's car pulled into the driveway. Amos Taylor stepped out of the car as Jeannie Bates leaped out of the passenger door.

"Hey folks," Amos drawled casually, watching as the pre-teen ran up to her friend. "Heard what happened. You'll be glad to know when they tried to get medical care, the men got caught. They were at the clinic when Jeannie here came in with Doc Latham's lunch. Dang fools realized that Doc had called for me and tried to take Jeannie hostage."

"My God, Jean – are you alright?" Lucy asked only to stop when Amos started laughing.

"Oh, Jeannie is fine," the sheriff said. "However, the one man has a broken nose and the other has a shattered jaw. And the one with the broken nose may never father children."

"That reminds me," Jeannie said with false sweetness. "Can I have my baseball bat back?"

"Not until you promise me you ain't gonna hit Keifer Dutton again," the sheriff said firmly.

"I didn't use the bat on him," Jeannie argued.

"Only 'cause I took it from you before you could," Amos said, ignoring the snickers of the older Tracy boys. "As it is, he's gonna have quite the shiner from where you punched him."

"Well," Jeannie said in a pseudo reasonable voice, "he shouldn't have been spreading rumors that Scott was either dead or hurt and he could have his place on the team."

_

* * *

_

Scott chuckled. "No, Jean never liked Keifer. He died a few years back. Amazingly, Jean didn't kill him. I guess that was because his mother never let him near a ball field with Jeannie Bates on it again. Did you know she attended Kansas State University on a baseball scholarship? And she was the first female player to win at the College World Series. Jeannie is now Sheriff Landman back in Bailey. Married a summer boy, Billy, and they have a couple of kids – Charlie and Deanna."

"_So where was I? Oh yeah, so after Jean became the hero to most of the kids in Bailey, we went to the hospital where they stitched up my arm and we managed to duck the media -"_

Scott and Jeannie sat on the sofa, watching as John held Alan while Sarah Jane and Virgil performed song after song to entertain the baby. It had taken a bit but Jeff and Lucy had finally relinquished their youngest to his siblings – and honorary sisters – while they called Jeff's parents so that the older couple wouldn't hear about the incident on the news.

"So," Jeannie teased, "how does it feel to be a hero?"

Scott shrugged. "I don't feel like a hero. I just did what I had to."

"Yeah, well," Jeannie muttered before giving Scott a peck on the cheek. When he looked at her in a shock, she mumbled, "You ever tell anyone I did that, I'll break your nose."

"My lips are sealed," Scott assured her.

* * *

"_I thought about that day a lot in years to come," Scott said thoughtfully. "I really wasn't trying to be a hero. But it did make me trust my instincts in crisis situations. You asked me about the incident in the Terrorist Wars. Some of the details have been unclassified in recent years but there was a private meeting after it, while I was still in the hospital..."_

"How are you feeling, Captain Tracy?"

Scott looked up from his hospital bed, wondering if the medication was making him hear things. "General O'Neill, I'm sorry, but I'm only a Lieutenant."

"No, Captain Tracy, the Air Force knows how to take care of heroes. Now, I'd like you to meet -"

A Middle Eastern man interrupted. "No names yet, General. I had a question for this young man."

Scott raised an eyebrow. The man wasn't that much older than him, but there was an unquestioning air of authority surrounding the man.

"May I ask," the man inquired, "why you would risk your life so foolishly? You could have been killed."

Frowning, Scott responded, "Foolishly? Hey, there were more than two dozen civilians down there. If I hadn't intervened, they would have been killed."

"Why?" the man continued. "You did not know any of them."

Smiling slightly, Scott picked up some pictures from his bedside stand. Handing one over to the man, he nodded. "That's my kid brother, Alan. When he was eighteen months old, someone tried to kidnap him." Scott held out his arm. "I got hurt but would have done whatever I had to in order to protect the kid. But I'm not there now. What if someone tried to hurt him?" Scott sighed and looked up at the ceiling.

"What if someone down there was someone else's kid brother? And he couldn't be there to protect him. It may not make sense, but I just couldn't help but feel like I had to do what I did."

Now it was the man who smiled. "There was someone's brother down there. My younger brother, Asif, was among the refugees. He had been volunteering with a group that has been helping refugees get to safety." At Scott's surprised look, he introduced himself.

"I am Hassam El Sayed," the man said, ignoring Scott's wide eyes as the Air Force pilot recognized him as an influential leader in the region, one who had refused to take sides so far in the Terrorist War.

"Asif is the only family I have left. Your actions were – inspirational, I must say. Many in my council have been encouraging us to take a stand. Perhaps we should. After all – the would-be victims could be someone's little brother, correct?"

* * *

"_Seems pretty simple, isn't it?" Scott said. "But when El Sayed put his political influence behind our side, the Terrorist Wars came to a close much sooner. The knowledge that I had to protect my little brother – and other people's little brothers – brought the conflict to an end and stopped what could have become a global conflict. And Asif El Sayed became a rather influential humanitarian, working for human rights and perhaps stopping future conflicts that would have arisen. Little things matter. The world can be changed if you stand up for what you believe you must."_

"_Alan was the reason I always believed that I had to be the defender, the protector. Seems silly in some ways. But because I couldn't stop being the big brother, the world was a better place. Alan would laugh if I tried to tell him that. He never saw himself as that important. If only because life remains interesting when he is around – Never a dull moment with my little brother, you know what I mean?"_

* * *

_**A/N - There, we have Scott's story, which was what Sammygirl1963 wanted most. Guess that means I should stop there, right?**_

_**Just kidding. But if you liked it, let me know. John is up next week, and I hope to have more of "Alan and John" up by the end of the week. Laters! CC**_


	3. John

**Never a Dull Moment**

**by Criminally Charmed**

_**Disclaimer - Not mine.**_

* * *

**Chapter Three - John**

_John Tracy put aside a star chart he had been researching and saved his notes on his latest book, smiling as the interviewer sat down across from him._

"_Emily said you were writing about how Alan changed lives," John nodded towards his wife as she set down two glasses of ice tea. Thanking her with a smile which only broadened as Emily kissed the top of his head, John turned his attention back to the interviewer._

"_Alan was amazing to all of the family from the day he was born. You have to understand – he was a "surprise" as Mom liked to phrase it. Our parents were worried we would resent him. Instead, he was like the best toy we ever had. I used to sneak him out of his crib to show him the stars."_

_John became very solemn as his mind wandered back. "For more than three years we were such a happy family. Sometimes I wonder if we were too complacent in our happiness. It felt like nothing could go wrong."_

"_It was the first real family vacation we had in years. We had gone skiing. Mom loved downhill skiing. Dad had taken Virgil and Gordon off to try a run while Scott, Mom, Alan and I were playing in the snow near our cabin. Scott and I had moved away from the path Mom and Alan were on when the avalanche occurred. They were buried. Scott managed to find Alan and he was rushed to the hospital, Scott watching over him the whole time. Dad had returned and was searching for Mom while I was sent back to the cabin to watch over Virgil and Gordon."_

"_He found Mom. We buried her back in Kansas two days after we got Alan out of the hospital." Looking out the window, John gave a sad smile. "Dad considered moving her to the island after we moved here. But Mom loved changing seasons. And Scott would tell us she was always in our hearts, and that was what mattered."_

_John sighed. "I had trouble remembering that when Mom first died. Alan reminded me."_

* * *

John sat silently in the living room, trying to read a well-worn copy of "Return of the King", but found himself unable to focus on the classic novel. It was simply too quiet in the house. It always seemed to be quiet, ever since Mom died. Gordon had stopped laughing and playing jokes; Virgil no longer played the piano; Scott had become a grownup overnight. The worse things were Dad and Alan. Dad seemed to vanish from their lives since the funeral, leaving for work before they got up and coming home after everyone but Scott was asleep. Sometimes John was tempted to ask his only older brother if Dad was still alive, but figured no one else would find it funny.

And Alan? Their baby brother hadn't said a word since he had been pulled from the same wall of snow that had buried their mother. The doctors said it wasn't anything physical, just the emotional trauma of the avalanche and waking up to discover Mom was dead.

Looking over at the three year old, his left arm still in a cast and a patch of hair still sparse where it had been shaved due to the stitches that were removed almost a month ago. Setting down the book, John moved over and sat on the rug next to Alan.

"Hey, Allie – what 'cha doing?" John joked in a sing-song voice from Alan's favorite cartoon.

Alan looked up silently at his only other blonde brother, his wide blue eyes filled with a heart-breaking sadness. John smiled weakly at the toddler before checking out the drawing on the table in front of the little boy.

Usually, Alan's pictures were filled with color and cheerful figures. Now, Alan seemed to have only picked dark colors. John could recognize Alan and their house, both drawn in black. Sighing, John pulled his youngest brother close. The teenager knew a shrink would have a field day with the picture.

"_But then we would have to admit we have a problem," _John thought, a touch of resentment running through his mind. _"And Dad would have to be here for that."_

_

* * *

_

John sighed again. "I guess I just couldn't understand back then. But Emily almost died when Keith was born. I don't know how I would have coped with it if I had lost her. And the irony was, I did the same thing when Emily was unconscious. I didn't even vid-call Elizabeth. She looks so much like her mother, just like Alan looked like our mother. I had long ago forgiven Dad – but then I realized, it wasn't my place to blame Dad. I really didn't have the right."

"_You know what? I mentioned all this to Alan one time and he said he hadn't blamed Dad. He was just glad to realize Dad had never blamed him for surviving when Mom died. That poor kid – he thought that was why no one was talking. I didn't realize how much I helped Alan by just taking time every evening to talk with Alan."_

* * *

Two weeks later, John once more finished getting Alan into his pajamas. Scott peaked in to check on the pair.

"Johnny – you need a hand?"

John smiled down at Alan, overjoyed to see a shy, answering smile in return. Looking up at their oldest brother, John shook his head.

"Nah, we're good, right, Allie?"

Scott nodded, happy to see life heading back into his blonde brothers. John was once more reading, even if it was stories to Alan. And Alan was showing emotion, the latest smile was the sixth he had shown.

"Gordy's staying at Grandma's and Grandpa's," Scott reminded John. "He has a swim meet in the morning. And Virgil is studying at Sarah Jane's. Mr. Woodbury says he'll bring him home by nine-thirty."

"Where are you heading?" John asked, gesturing to the keys Scott held in his hand. Scott was barely fifteen and had his learner's permit, but wasn't supposed to be driving without an adult.

Scott shrugged. "We're out of milk, bread and cereal. We need breakfast and with Grandma going with Grandpa and Gordon to the swim meet, we can't wait until she comes home tomorrow. I'll ask Dad if we can set up a grocery delivery system. Mr. Miller could probably set up something with the basics. Then we would only have to get Grandma to help once a month or so. And I'll have my license within the year."

"Why not just tell Dad?" John snapped.

Shrugging again, Scott said nothing and walked away, twirling the keys to their mother's minivan as he walked down the stairs. John suspected Scott may have mentioned the simple problems they were going through. Since Scott was often the only one who saw Jeff, John wondered if the oldest Tracy son was giving up and assuming yet another duty left in the absence of both parents.

"_At least Mom died, she didn't choose to leave us," _John thought bitterly. _"Dad's acting like he's the only one who lost Mom."_

Sighing, John turned to pick up Alan and put him to bed. To his shock, the little boy was gone.

"Allie!" John cried out, panicking. "Where are you?"

John continued to call his brother's name as he ran through the empty house. As he moved through the family room, John came to an abrupt halt when he noticed the patio doors open. It was a spring evening; John became alarmed at the idea of his little brother out on the cool, damp lawn –

Out on the patio, John froze at the sight of Alan looking up at the stars. With bittersweet memories, the second Tracy son recalled Lucy sitting out here, telling her sons myths and legends of the constellations. Sometimes Jeff would come up, at times just to listen, at times to tell them stories of space exploration. As far as John knew, no one had been out here since the night before they left on the ski trip.

"Hey. Allie," John spoke softly, reaching down and picking the little boy off the wooden swing. Seating himself back on the swing, John positioned Alan on his lap, wrapping his arms around the tot. Setting the swing to a gentle motion, John followed Alan's gaze.

"You like that constellation, Allie? Um, those stars? That bunch of stars is called Orion. The ones you can see the clearest are known as Orion's belt." John then began to tell his little brother the story Lucy Tracy had once told her older son.

As John finished up the story, he slowed the swing as Alan had curled into his brother's chest, rubbing his head against John's shoulder. John smiled and kissed the toddler's head. The older brother was surprised to find how relaxed and happy he was, reconnecting with the stars he loved so much.

"Mama," Alan whispered.

John looked down at Alan in shock, almost dropping the little boy. Clasping the three year old closely once more, John followed his brother's gaze once more. Alan's wide blue eyes were fixed on the heavens, on something he alone seemed to be able to see.

Alan turned back to John and smiled, pointing to the glittering stars above. "Mama up there, yes, Johnny?"

Part of John wondered if Alan was trying to grasp the idea of their mother being in heaven when he looked, truly looked, at the stars. Warmth filled his heart, knowing somehow that Alan was right. And he knew their mother was there, encouraging her silent baby to speak once more.

"Yeah, Allie. Mama is up there. And I promise you, baby boy – I'll find her someday, OK?"

Alan sighed and curled back into John's chest, quickly falling asleep. Standing, John began to carry Alan inside, pausing to look at the night sky once more.

"I'll be back, Mom. Sorry I was gone so long. But I'll be back."

* * *

"_Well," John explained calmly, "I know I couldn't actually find my mother as most people would understand it. But I was still fairly young when I was sent up as part of the International Space Station. It was while I was up there that I discovered a star I named for Mom. This led to further discoveries and now America and several other countries are once more exploring the heavens. If Alan hadn't forced me to remember just where I could reconnect with Mom, I don't know if that would have happened. Do you know the research being done on the expanded space station? The world is being changed for the better because of it. And while many give me a large part of the credit, I give it to Alan."_

_Smiling at the stars as they began to emerge in the tropical sky, John noted where Thunderbird Five was and silently greeted his youngest brother, the only other Thunderbird who enjoyed space as much as he did. Maybe when Keith grew old enough, there would be another, but for now, it was mainly John and Alan._

"_Alan gave me back the stars," John said softly. "He became our strength after our mother died. And life was never boring with Alan around. Yes, he does have a way of keeping things interesting. Never a dull moment with my little brother."_

* * *

_**A/N - Just a quick note. Real life has given me a kick in the teeth this week. Work was crazy all last week, my daughter goes back to school tomorrow so lots to do. Then my Dad...well, he's not doing well at the moment. And I am about to leave to the one-day surgery. For me. So I managed to update this story but will not be updating Alan and John Walk into a Bank. But I should be back next week with BOTH stories. Take care. ~ CC**_


	4. Virgil

**Never a Dull Moment**

**by Criminally Charmed**

_**Disclaimer - Never had them, never will. Man, is that depressing or what? Also, I do not own "I'll Be" by Reba McEntire. But I REALLY like it.**_

* * *

**Chapter Four - Virgil**

_Virgil Tracy ran a hand lightly over the baby grand piano his brothers had given him as a wedding present so many years ago. Looking at the collection of photographs that had gathered there over the years, Virgil smiled. From the day he and Sarah had married to recent ones with his two sons, as well as his brothers and their families, Virgil drew inspiration from the sight of the people who had been his very reason for living._

_Picking up one that his grandmother had taken many years ago, the middle Tracy son's smile became softer and gentler. A four year old Alan sat silent in time next to an eleven year old Virgil as he played a tune on the piano at their home back in Kansas. That same piano was in the main villa across the compound. Since it had been their mother's and one of the few pieces of furniture Jeff Tracy had not either left at the old house or consigned to storage – Virgil supposed the good memories had outweighed the bad on that one item – Virgil hadn't wanted it to leave it's place of honor in the family room. Even today, after a family dinner, Virgil could once more be found playing the piano, the other Tracys gathered around…_

_Shaking himself slightly, Virgil turned on the bench, smiling at the interviewer. "So – how did Alan Tracy – my kid brother, Alan – change the world? Now was that my world or the world as a whole. Either and/or both? OK. Well, the world part may not seem that profound, but I think it is important. But I guess we need to start with how he changed my life."_

"_I remember the first time I ever got to see Alan. Dad had come home the day before, all smiles. We had a new baby brother. I was a little disappointed at first. Just like when Gordon was born, I had hoped for a baby sister. When I looked sad for a minute, Dad knelt next to me and asked what was wrong. So I told him."_

"Daddy, I wanted a little sister. We've got tons of boys. We need a girl."

Jeff Tracy sat on the sofa next to Virgil and pulled his seven year old son closer to him. "Want to know a secret, Virgil?" When Virgil looked up at him with wide brown eyes, Jeff smiled. "So did I. In fact, when the doctor said it was a boy, I didn't even try to hide my disappointment. But when he didn't cry -"

Gordon and Virgil looked confused while John and Scott became concerned. Jeff quickly explained.

"When a baby is born, it – well, it went from the mommy's tummy where it was all warm and safe to the room in the hospital. It – well, they don't like it."

"Like when you make Virgil get out of bed, Daddy?" Gordon asked, his bright green eyes filled with mischief even as his next oldest brother glared at him. The kindergartener was thrilled. He was finally no longer the baby!

Jeff chuckled, hugging Virgil closer. "Yes, Gordy – exactly like that. Well, Alan – that's your new brother's name, Alan – he didn't cry at first. All I could think was that something was wrong with him. But," Jeff smiled as he looked at his sons, "then he let out a big yell. Alan was fine. Your mom and I got to hold him. He's perfect. He looks like your mom, the blue eyes and the blonde hair -"

Gordon suddenly began to sulk. "You mean he looks like Johnny! It's not fair. Virgil looks like you and Scotty, and Alan looks like Mommy and Johnny and I don't look like anyone. Keeper says you found me by the side of the road like a stray puppy."

"Keeper?" John asked in confusion only for Scott to stand suddenly, the eleven year old's body taut with anger.

"Keifer," he snapped. "A jerk in my class. I'll -"

"Do nothing," Jeff said calmly. "I'll have a word with his parents. And Gordon, you look like my late Uncle Roger. He was your grandma's brother and he drowned in a boating accident when he was barely twenty. When Grandma comes up tomorrow, I'll have her tell you all about him."

Scott sat back down, ready to sulk before it turned to a smirk. When Jeff got up to talk to Ann-Marie, his personal assistant who was watching the boys until Ruth Tracy could get to the house tomorrow, the oldest son leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, "I'll tell Jeannie Bates. She'll nail him!"

* * *

"_So we went to bed, and I'll admit it – I was still sulking a bit. My much anticipated baby sister was another boy. Nothing special about that, right?"_

"_Well, I get up the next morning and we march off to school. Dad wasn't there, Ann-Marie said there was a note saying he had headed back to the hospital and she expected to see him at the office. Yeah, Jeff Tracy was always a bit of a workaholic. But I was, I admit, a bit excited when Grandma arrived just as Ann-Marie was pulling out in Mom's minivan. She promised to take us all to see Alan when we got home from school."_

"_But when school was over, it was Grandma picking us up. Instead of taking us to the hospital, she took us to McDonald's. Now, this was a treat, especially with Grandma, because she disliked take-out or fast food in any form."_

"Boys, I have something to tell you," Ruth Tracy said solemnly. When she was sure she had all their attention, she continued.

"Last night, Alan began to have trouble breathing. They took him to a special part of the hospital called the Newborn Intensive Care Unit."

"Is Alan gonna die, Grandma?" John asked softly.

"Now, John, the doctors are doing everything they can and we have to have faith in God and your little brother to show that Tracy stubbornness, alright?" Ruth smiled at her grandsons. "I know your Dad promised you that you would see Alan today, but I'm afraid you have to be at least ten to enter the room. Usually, you have to be at least ten to even go in that ward of the hospital, but your father convinced them to allow you to see your little brother for just a moment through a window."

"Grandma," Scott piped up. "I'm eleven. Can't I go in to see Alan?"

"Yes, you can Scott," Ruth said.

"Not fair," Gordon pouted. "Scotty gets to do everything first."

"It's a privilege for putting up with annoying little brothers," Scott said smugly.

Ruth started to object but seeing how Scott had managed to distract his brothers, she decided not to interfere at this point.

"_I still remember my first sight of Alan. He looked like one of Sarah Jane's baby dolls. Well, the ones her sister Holly hadn't stolen or damaged. Scott looked wild, in scrubs that kept slipping past his wrists and threatening to trip him. I never saw Scott so fascinated by anything as he was by our newest brother. At that point I had decided – maybe another brother wasn't such a bad thing."_

"_Years went by," Virgil continued. "When Alan was three, we went on a family vacation. A ski trip. You know what happened there."_

"_When we got home, it was to bury our mother and try to help Alan heal. He had been hurt in the avalanche. For a long time, he didn't talk. I don't know what John said to him, but one night we realized Alan was talking again. It was softer than we remembered but at least he was speaking."_

"_Sometimes, when John would sit on the couch next to Alan, reading stories to him, I would sit at the piano bench. But I couldn't bring myself to play. It just hurt too much, thinking of Mom and how she filled the house with music and laughter."_

* * *

Virgil ghosted his hand over the piano keys, refusing to press down in the least. John was sitting nearby, reading aloud to Alan when Gordon entered the room.

"Johnny? Can you help me with my math homework?"

John smiled up at the redhead before nodding. "Sure, Gordo. I'll be right there."

Looking over at Virgil, John gestured towards Alan. "Keep an eye on the Sprout, will you, Virg?"

"Sure John," Virgil responded. When the older boy left the room, Virgil walked over to the sofa.

"You want me to read to you, Allie? No?" Virgil said when Alan shook his head. "I guess Johnny is the best reader, huh?"

Alan gave a smile before slipping off the sofa. Tugging Virgil by the hand, he pulled his middle brother towards the piano.

"Allie, baby -" Virgil tried to explain, "I – I just haven't -"

The tow-headed tot, having only turned four that past week, kept pulling until they were standing next to the piano. "Alan, I can't -"

"Play unless someone sings," a new voice popped up.

The two Tracys turned to see Sarah Jane Woodbury standing in the doorway. "Hey, baby," the red-haired girl smiled at Alan. The daughter of the Tracys' closest neighbor, sometimes it seemed as if she spent more time at their house than her own. She was closer to Gordon's age but in the class between them. Virgil knew from an angry tantrum he had heard Sarah Jane's sister, Holly, throwing, that the younger girl was going to be skipping another grade and would be in the same class as her sister and Virgil the next school year.

Between Sarah Jane and Alan, the two younger kids managed to have Virgil sitting on the bench in front of the piano. Flipping the pages of the music book, the two virtually ignored Virgil, before selecting a song with Alan happily nodding and smiling up at his brother, his large azure eyes shimmering with love and faith.

Seeing the depth of emotions in those eyes, Virgil knew he couldn't do anything that could hamper Alan's recovery. Resting his hands over the keys, he ghosted over the keyboard before he began to play, Sarah Jane's soft voice accompanying him in perfect harmony.

_When darkness falls upon your heart and soul.  
I'll be the light that shines for you.  
When you forget how beautiful you are  
I'll be there to remind you.  
When you can't find your way,  
I'll find my way to you.  
When troubles come around,  
I will come to you._

_I'll be your shoulder when you need someone to lean on.  
Be your shelter.  
When you need someone to see you through.  
I'll be there to carry you.  
I'll be there.  
I'll be the rock that will be strong for you.  
The one that will hold on to you.  
When you feel that rain falling down.  
When there's nobody else around.  
I'll be._

Scott Tracy followed the sound of the music from the family room, carrying the sack of groceries he had picked up on the way home from baseball practice. Briefly noticing John and Gordon standing just outside the room, a math book hanging loosely from Gordon's hand, Scott almost cried at the sight of Virgil once more playing the piano, Alan curled up against him, silent as a mouse but smiling in contentment.

Ruth Tracy had entered the hallway, joining her grandsons, grateful to see Virgil playing again. With Lucy gone, Jeff a stranger to his family, and her husband, Grant, once more hospitalized for cancer treatment, Ruth had felt like there just was no more of her to spread around. But thankfully, Lucy's strength and Jeff's stubbornness (although her son would have reversed those) was abundant in the youngest Tracy and he wasn't afraid to give some of that to his brothers. Pulling out a camera from the bottom of her huge purse, she discreetly snapped a picture of the pair at the piano. It was a priceless moment.

Virgil didn't take note of the rest of his family and was barely aware of Sarah's voice gaining strength and confidence as he continued to play. All he knew was that he was making Alan happy. And somewhere Virgil knew he was rediscovering a lost part of his own soul –

_I'll be the sun.  
When your heart's filled with rain.  
I'll be the one.  
To chase the rain away._

_I'll be your shoulder when you need someone to lean on.  
Be your shelter.  
When you need someone to see you through.  
I'll be there to carry you.  
I'll be there.  
I'll be the rock that will be strong for you.  
The one that will hold on to you.  
When you feel that rain falling down.  
When there's nobody else around.  
I'll be.  
I'll be._

* * *

"_Doesn't seem like much, does it?" Virgil said as he picked up the small picture his late grandmother had taken all those years before. "But it meant so much to me. Music – well, and art," Virgil conceded as he gestured to one of the few paintings of his own that hung in the house he shared with his wife and sons, "are my shelter. No matter how isolated we may seem or the stress of life, this can take me away to a safe place. And I don't know if I would have come back if not for Alan."_

"_And how did Alan change the world?" Virgil asked with a small smile. "Well, some people may not consider it as big a deal as me but to the world of music, it is significant." Virgil picked up a picture of his oldest son, Michael, playing in concert at the White House when the boy was only sixteen._

"He's wonderful, Virgil," Lady Penelope whispered from behind him as they sat listening to the teenager play.

Virgil nodded, briefly catching his wife's eye as she spoke softly with the President. He couldn't help but smile at how far Sarah had come from that awkward girl he had grown up with. On his other side, his younger son, Tommy, was trying not to show his boredom. But frankly, if it didn't involve field medicine or Thunderbird Two, his youngest child seemed to tune everything out.

Michael had been asked to come and play at the White House by the First Lady, after a fundraiser organized by the students at both his boarding school and their sister school. Both private boarding schools were located just outside of New York and while Michael, Tommy and any male cousins had attended the Regis Academy for Boys, his cousin Elizabeth was a recent alum of Gifford Academy for Girls and soon his cousin, Samantha, Alan's oldest daughter, would be a student there as well. Kate – his brother, Scott's wife – had insisted on the school for both the sister school and the ease of access for whatever Tracy was in New York City at the time.

Independently, Michael and some of his classmates, plus some girls from Gifford's, had organized a concert for victims of a recent hurricane that had devastated the Northeast. Michael had been asked what his inspiration was and had simply said, "It's just what my family taught me to do – help others whenever and wherever you can."

Virgil sighed. He knew Michael had no real interest in becoming a Thunderbird. And his first born son would never be happy living full time on Tracy Island. But the gift he had given his son, inspiring his love of music – maybe in his own way, Michael would still be fulfilling the family creed of helping their fellow man. Only Michael would do it one note at a time.

Penny's small cough drew Virgil's attention away from his son. "You ok, Penny?" he asked in concern.

"Oh, yes, of course," the woman maintained, stiffly holding herself before changing the subject. "Somehow, I don't think this son will be joining the family business."

"And what a waste that would be," a senator next to her admonished. "Such a gift can change the world. And with all due respect, I am not sure – well, I suppose it may. Your father's company has moved the world forward in so many ways. But this – This is priceless."

Smiling again as he refocused on his son, Virgil nodded. Yes, it was. And he knew the world owed it to Alan. If his brother hadn't pulled him back to music – not to mention being the one to make sure he met up with Sarah again years later – the artistic talents of Michael Tracy would not be set to make the world so much more a beautiful place. And what was life without music?

* * *

"_Michael's music – and the other young artists he has inspired over time – are slowly changing the world, in their own fashion," Virgil mused. "They have loosely formed a group of artists that when the need is greatest, pool their talents and raise funds. There are people like the Thunderbirds who can save lives – people like Michael will help get those lives back into a sense of normalcy."_

"_Something else you may not know – Alan was the one who suggested to Michael that first fundraising event," Virgil said with no small amount of pride. "So Alan led me back to music, which led to Michael falling in love with music and he also encouraged Michael to use his gift to help others, as well as brightening their lives. Such a small thing, I guess."_

"_Life is funny isn't it? And life with my little brother? Well, with Alan, there is never a dull moment."_

* * *

_**A/N - Aren't you glad I gave the diabetic warning? BTW - Thanks for all the kind thoughts. I am recovering well, but my Dad is in ICU at the moment. Amazingly, I did get a new chapter of Alan and Johh...banged out, and will post that in a couple of days. Enjoy and I hope to hear from you. - CC**_


	5. Gordon

**Never a Dull Moment**

**by Criminally Charmed**

_**Disclaimer - Still don't own Thunderbirds. Or a pool. Hey, it's Gordon's chapter.**_

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* * *

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Chapter Five – Gordon

_Gordon Tracy pulled himself out of the pool, having completed his morning routine of twenty five laps. Grabbing a towel, he briskly dried his dripping hair before sprawling in a chair. Pouring a glass of orange juice, the former Olympian sipped at the beverage before focusing on the person across the table._

"_So," he mused, his green eyes sparkling as he warmed to one of his favorite subjects – his family. "You want to write about Alan Tracy, my favorite kid brother."_

"_He is your only little brother, Mon Coeur," Julie Tracy remarked as she came up from behind her husband. Kissing him lightly, she snatched his glass of juice and drank half of it down before handing it back with another kiss. "The twins are with their cousins down at the beach, working on their biology project. Kate and I need to head to New York. More than likely, we will not be back until tomorrow. Your father said to tell you that he expects all three of you to dinner if I am not back."_

_Smiling, Gordon nodded. Whenever one of the spouses was away on either family business, Jeff preferred that the spouse still on the Island would eat at the main house with him. Alan was up on Thunderbird Five at the moment, but since he still lived in the main villa with his wife and daughters, it was a non-issue in this case. But Scott would probably be there if Kate was in New York. This could be fun –_

"_And no pranking Scott, if you do not want to sleep in a lounge chair for a month!" Julie called out as she hurried towards the hanger to join Kate in Tracy Two._

_Gordon sighed. "Other husbands get threatened with the couch. My wife gets her French up and I get banned from the house." Rolling his eyes, he failed to note how much his sons he resembled at the moment. Considering they were teenagers, that wasn't a favorable consideration._

"_Anyhow, you have been focusing on how Alan Tracy changed the world. Well, I don't know how important most people would say it was – Oh, Virgil said the same thing? Ok, well, I'll give it my best shot. OK, let us tarry back to the day – What? Too dramatic? OK, let's just start with my initial reaction to the Sprout -"_

* * *

Gordon ran into his classroom, the smile on his face was huge and instantly caught his teacher's attention.

Mrs. Cassidy put out a hand, stopping the red-head in his tracks. "OK, Gordon. Where's the fire?"

Looking puzzled, the five year old turned green eyes on his teacher. "There's no fire, Mrs. Cassidy. Mommy says I shouldn't play with stuff like that."

The teacher laughed, shaking her head. Most kindergarten students had a tendency to say exactly what was on their mind but Gordon Tracy took it to extremes.

"No, Gordon – Why were you in such a hurry?"

"I'm just so 'cited!" The five year beamed. "I's a big brother!"

Mrs. Cassidy smiled. She knew that Lucy Tracy was pregnant again – for the fifth time, no less – and that the family was thrilled.

"So, do you have a little brother or little sister?" Diana Cassidy asked.

"A little brother!" Gordon squealed with excitement. "He's named Alan. Daddy says he looks like Mommy and Johnny. So he must have yellow hair too, right? G'anma says she'll take us to see the baby today after school."

_

* * *

_

Gordon chuckled. "I suppose I was a bit excited." At the raised eyebrow of the interviewer, he blushed. "OK, I was super excited." Gordon's face became solemn as he remembered the rest of that day.

"_When Grandma did pick us up, it was to find out – Oh, Dad already told you about that? And the others mentioned it too? Damn. Well, I still remember my first sight of Alan. Grandma lined the three of us – John, Virgil and me – outside a window and we watched Scott hold Alan. He looked so cute. And Alan was pretty adorable as well."_

_Seeing the interviewer almost laugh, Gordon froze when he realized someone was behind him. Looking up, he saw his oldest brother. "Hi, Scott. Everything OK?"_

"_We'll talk later, Gordon," Scott assured him. "When there are no witnesses." _

_Watching Scott stalk off, Gordon shrugged. "He'll get over it. I hope."_

"_Anyhow," Gordon continued. "I'm sure if you have talked to the elders, you know most of what went on in the formative years of Alan Tracy. And – you, well, you know what happened with our Mom." Sighing, the redhead looked off into the distance. _

"_Alan was hurt, but he started getting better. I swear, that kid was the best medicine around for us. Maybe Dad would have recovered faster if he had been around the house more. By the age of five, Alan was a whirlwind. He was hard to keep up with, but we managed it." Grinning, he winked across the table. "Usually."_

* * *

Gordon sat by the pool, drying off, waiting for the swim coach to come back over.

"Good time, Tracy," Coach Gardner said. Writing down some notes, the man looked around. "Where's your ride?"

Shrugging, Gordon moved to pick up his bag. "Grandma had to take Grandpa for another treatment. It was supposed to be over in plenty of time, but if not, someone else will come get me."

Coach Gardner looked a bit concerned. In the two years since Lucy Tracy had died, Jeff Tracy had allowed so much of the parenting responsibilities to fall to others. He didn't want to interfere, but it was his responsibility to assure the well-being of the kids entrusted to his care. It might be time for him to say –

"Gordy!" Alan Tracy came running into the room, slipping slightly on the damp tile before Sarah Jane Woodbury grabbed his arms.

"Hey, Gordon," the red-haired girl said with a smile. She was Gordon's age, but in his older brother, Virgil's, class. "Your Grandpa isn't feeling so good and the doctor wants him to stay overnight. Scott had to cover for Virgil's recital and John is making dinner. If we head over to the diner, Jeannie Bates will give us a ride home."

"Are you eating with us again, Sarah Jane?" Alan asked.

"Holly is in another pageant," Sarah Jane shrugged. "So trust me, baby, I would rather eat in your grandparents' barn than go home."

"Yeah, but Johnny is making pasta," Alan argued. "It's better than anything in the barn."

"A very convincing argument," Sarah Jane joked, her emerald eyes sparkling behind her glasses. "And if we head over to the diner, I bet Miss Millie would send us home with some dessert."

"Just let me change," Gordon said, trying not to laugh. "We don't want to upset Miss Millie."

"I'd be more scared of Jeannie," Sarah Jane said.

"As would anyone with any good sense," the coach muttered.

Sarah Jane snickered before sitting on a bench outside the locker room. Alan cheerfully followed his brother into the room, chattering all the way.

Gordon kept nodding, letting Alan ramble on.

"OK, Gordy – what's up?"

Startled, Gordon looked up from tying his sneakers. Smiling at his youngest – heck, only younger – brother, Gordon asked, "What do you mean, Allie? I'm tying my shoes. I know you know how to and -"

A scoffing sound accompanied by eye rolling made Gordon want to laugh – and pray that Scott never saw Alan imitate him so perfectly. Sobering quickly, Gordon decided to say the unthinkable quickly and hear how it sounded out loud.

"I'm thinking of quitting swimming," Gordon admitted, freezing at Alan's appalled expression. He quickly jumped in before Alan could say anything.

"Think about it, Allie," Gordon said defensively. "Dad is never around, Mom is – is…Well, she's not here, either. And with Grandpa being sick, Grandma can't help as much as she'd like. Scotty has his license now, so that helps but he'll be heading off to college by the time John has his. Heck, for all we know, as smart as John is, he'll head off to college before Virgil has his. Just think about it. Just for me to get home from practice involves people outside of the family."

Alan just shrugged. "Sarah Jane is kinda family, isn't she? And Jeannie would bop you good if she heard you say she isn't family. Grandma said Miss Millie and Daddy should have been brother and sister 'cause Millie used to drive Daddy nuts."

"Used to?" Gordon smirked before becoming serious. Miss Millie couldn't still drive Dad nuts because you have to be there to be annoyed.

"I just mean -" Alan drifted off for a moment before getting a stubborn look on his face. "Darn its, Gordon Cooper Tracy! Virgil plays piano still. Johnny watches the stars. You gotta still swim."

"Yeah," Gordon responded, thinking of how John and Virgil had kept up with the two things that they loved. At least once Alan had led them back, even if it was just by being himself. "So what about Scotty?"

"Jeannie says he's a control feet," Alan shrugged. "But she's said that like forever and ever."

"Its control freak, Sprout," Gordon laughed. "And I think Scott will always be that way."

"Your really, really good at swimming, Gordy," Alan continued. "You gotta keep doing it. Please? For me?"

Gordon worried his lower lip. "Well, I'll try for a bit longer, Allie. If it makes you happy, OK?" Like the rest of the family, Gordon could bear to see Alan upset.

* * *

"_Like I said, doesn't seem all that significant, right?" Gordon said. "But I really was ready to quit. Grandpa was gone by the time Alan was six. That was when Dad finally started pulling himself from his grief. Things went smoother for a time since both Grandma and Dad were actually taking care of things that Scott and John had been handling since Mom died. That's not to say the big two weren't still helping out. It's just that they got a chance to have some time for themselves as well."_

"_Years passed and we were moving to Tracy Island when I got it in my head that I wouldn't need college. I joined the WASPs, a special military branch – and the only one that would guarantee I could keep training for the Olympics. I was too young for the one before but determined to be in the next games."_

_Gordon's face darkened with a combination of sorrow and anger. "Then came the accident. Accident," he scoffed. "Some jerk decided to save some money on parts for a hydrofoil. Ten thousand dollars was what he pocketed for using a look-alike part, one that came apart during training. Twelve of us went out; I'm the only one that survived. My teammates' lives were worth less than a thousand dollars apiece."_

_Sighing, Gordon ran a hand through his red hair. "I guess I can't get over that. I mean, the guy went to jail – Dad made sure of that. But he was paroled last month. Then again, he's working at McDonald's and his family cut him off. I think I could handle the McDonald's – although I would prefer working at Long John Silver's. But no family? Family makes bad times good and good times better. And family – especially Alan – is the reason I recovered from the accident."_

* * *

"I can't do this," Gordon groaned, almost collapsing as he once more performed the exercises he had been told would help him walk again.

"Yes, you can," Virgil said patiently. He looked at his watch before picking up a notepad. "I need to call Dr. Hoepp about your latest results." Virgil moved closer to his next youngest brother and put an arm around Gordon's shoulders. Guiding him to the waiting wheelchair, Virgil knelt beside the redhead and smiled up at him.

"Gordon, when the accident first happened, they didn't think you'd make it. Then they said you wouldn't walk again," Virgil said with a gentle smile. "And you are proving them wrong once more. You can do this."

"_You can do this_," Gordon mimicked once Virgil had left, leaving the ex-aquanaut to enjoy the bright sunshine and warm tropical breeze on the lanai.

"Well, Virgil doesn't lie," Alan said calmly from across the patio, his books spread out as he finished up his lessons. Jeff Tracy had brought his eleven (almost twelve, Alan would be quick to say) year old son home from his boarding school when Gordon had first been hurt. The billionaire had set up home schooling for his youngest son that Alan could stay with his brother.

Now twelve, Alan would often work on his satellite courses wherever Gordon was, especially when he was doing his physical therapy. Virgil was quick to realize that Gordon refused to quit if Alan was watching.

Alan closed his text book and tossed his pencil onto the table. Moving over to Gordon, the blonde grabbed a chair and pulled it closer to his brother.

"You're gonna swim again, right, Gordy?"

Sighing, Gordon gave a weak smile to Alan. "Aw, Sprout – I'd love to tell you yes. But the doctors -"

"Don't know my brother. You can do it, Gordy. Remember what you promised Mom the day before we left Kansas?"

Gordon looked at his baby brother, the blue eyes and soft smile so much like the late Lucy Tracy, and his mind drifted back to that day…

_Scott and John had brought their younger brothers to visit Lucy Tracy's grave. Virgil had already headed back to the car and Scott was on the phone, assuring their father that they would be back at the house soon to make sure all of their belongings was packed up so that they could leave first thing in the morning. Scott would heading back to the Air Force and John was spending the summer with NASA, while Virgil would spend the summer with his father and younger brother in New York before going off to college. Alan's and Gordon's education was still up in the air, as Jeff was examining boarding schools and satellite programs. If they were staying in Manhattan, it would be no big deal; but Jeff would be moving the family to an island home he had purchased several years earlier by the end of the summer._

"_I'll be good, Mom," Alan sniffed. "I just – I just don't want anyone else to leave me, OK?" Looking up at John, the ten year old bit his lip. "John, is Sarah Jane mad at me? Was I bad? Is that why she isn't here?"_

_John closed his eyes. He wasn't sure if he agreed with his father's decision not to tell Alan about the fire that had destroyed the Woodbury home a few days earlier. Sarah Jane was in critical condition in a burn unit in Kansas City and the rest of her family was dead. Opening his eyes once more, John smiled down at his brother. _

"_Alan, Sarah Jane is staying with some relatives. I'm sure she'll be in touch."_

_Gordon looked over at John from behind Alan and mouthed "Liar" before turning back to the grave. _

_John and Alan turned away from a moment, pausing when Gordon spoke aloud._

"_I'm gonna do it, Mom. I'll win a gold medal at the Olympics. I promise."_

_Looking up at his blonde brothers, Gordon shrugged. "Mom said never make a promise I can't keep. Well, I'll keep that one." _

_Pushing past John and Alan, Gordon stalked past Scott as he was closing the cell phone. Scott looked at John in confusion but John simply shook his head. He didn't want to go into it in front of Alan. The ten year old was upset enough._

"You promised Mom you'd win a gold medal at the Olympics," Alan said reasonably. "The next Olympics are in less than a year."

"Allie," Gordon groaned. "The final qualifier to make the U.S. Swim Team is in eight months."

"Then you better get to work," Alan said reasonably before getting back up and moving back over to his table. He wanted to finish his homework before his father came back. The boy was anxious to hear Jeff talk about the progress on the Thunderbirds with his brothers. Even now, John was prepping to finish work on a satellite that would be launched, allowing them to begin work on the space station that would be their eyes in the sky. Alan had not heard so much excitement in his father's voice since their mother's death –

"It's not that easy, Alan," Gordon argued, yanking Alan from his thoughts.

"You said you wouldn't make a promise you couldn't keep Gordy," Alan challenged. "You made a promise to Mom. So you need to keep it."

Gordon refused to look at Alan for a moment, missing the sight of the younger boy pulling out a picture taken after a swim meet, with a seven year old Alan holding Gordon's winning medal while Sarah Jane and Gordon laughed beside him. Alan tucked it back into a folder before Gordon turned the wheelchair back towards him.

"Alan -"

"No, Gordy," Alan stubbornly maintained, his jaw clenched in fury. "We were raised that if we made a promise, we keep it. Are you going to break a promise or not? Because if you are, it must be something in the water."

"What's that mean?" Gordon asked.

"Nothing," Alan muttered before looking up at his brother.

"Gordon, I've never seen you lie around me or break a promise. Please – don't change that."

Wheeling himself over to the table, Gordon reached out and grabbed Alan's arm. "I promise, Allie. I will do my best to never let you down."

When Alan broke out in a huge smile like Gordon hadn't seen since they had left Kansas, the redhead knew he had made the right choice. He couldn't let Alan down.

* * *

"_Well," Gordon sighed. "You know what happened. I did compete in the Olympics. And I won." Stretching, he winced at a twinge in his back._

"_Still bugs me sometimes. Especially when I overdo," Gordon said. "But at the worst points of my life, all I have to do is remember winning that medal and looking for my family. The look on Alan's face – it was worth all the work and pain."_

_Gordon pulled a bag out from under the table they were seated at. _

"_I get these," Gordon passed a letter across table. Smiling, he tapped the paper before continuing. "Letters from people who have been hurt, or are sick, and doctors don't give them much hope. But for almost two decades, I've been the person some folks can think of when they decide they want to find hope in a hopeless situation. Do you know what question I get asked most?"_

_Without waiting for an answer, Gordon smiled and answered his own question. "I get asked what kept me going when the situation seemed hopeless. I tell them my family wouldn't let me give up on myself. But the bigger reason was that I only have one little brother and I could never bear to be the one to let him down. I haven't been the perfect big brother. There were times – well, there was one point in our lives that I stopped being a good brother to Alan. And realizing how much I had hurt him? It made me remember whose face I pictured as I pushed myself to win that gold medal."_

_Laughing, Gordon shook his head. "Promise me you'll edit the hell out of this. I don't want anyone to think I am some kind of - Oh, whatever. Yeah, Alan would give me heck about it but - I don't know. It might even make things more interesting. Because you know, with Alan around – there's never a dull moment."_

* * *

**_A/N - There. Gordon's story is up and we have just one chapter left. Any guess on who finishes the story? Let me just say, it does wrap everything up. Oh - and in case I forget - Sam1 says all diabetics should avoid chapter six. But I have a diabetic friendly version I can send out if needed. Laters! - CC_**


	6. Alan

**Never a Dull Moment**

**by Criminally Charmed**

_**Disclaimer - Still don't own the Thunderbirds. And I REALLY hope Sammygirl1963 enjoyed this birthday present! And I also don't own (to get back to disclaiming) "In My Daughter's Eyes" by Martina McBride. But I have always wanted to use it.**_

_**Please note - This chapter may be a bit harder to understand if you never read the final story in my Tracy Family Series. But I had some people ask for more details of certain events in "Family Honor", so this is my (eventual) answer to them. It may have taken, what - three years? But I get around to it.**_

* * *

**Chapter Six – Alan**

Alan Tracy sat in silence. Even at his age, silence was unusual for the youngest of Jeff Tracy's sons.

He had been sitting for five hours in a chair that he would have sworn was designed by the Marquis DeSade. A nurse had taken pity on him and arranged for a comfortable recliner/sleep chair to be brought into the hospital room. The nurse, who had introduced herself as Kelly, smiled at Alan.

"I'm guessing it would take an act of God to get you out of here, Mr. Tracy," Kelly said with a small laugh.

Pulling the chair closer to the hospital bed, Alan picked up the limp hand lying on the bed, careful not to dislodge the IV. "Well, at least not until more of my family can get here. And it's Alan. You say Mr. Tracy and I start looking for my father."

Laughing again, Kelly nodded and moved to the door, reminding Alan to let the staff know if he needed anything. Pausing in the open door, the nurse was deeply touched by the devotion the man was showing her patient.

Pressing a light kiss against the hand he was holding, Alan remembered sitting beside beds over the years. Scott's when he was trying to get his oldest brother to wake up and play with him. Gordon's after his hydrofoil accident. Tin-Tin's after the birth of each of their children. But the time's he had sat beside her bedside…

"I never had to worry about you," Alan said softly, his left hand still holding on while his right brushed back a blonde lock that had escaped both being shaved off and the bandages surrounding the head on the pillow. "But I can still remember sitting beside your bed, just to watch you sleep. Jo had to run into everything, Val seemed to catch every cold and Ginny had broken a bone before she even started school. But you never got sick and seemed to bounce back from any mishap."

"Mr. Tracy."

Alan started in surprise at the new voice. A doctor had entered during his one-sided conversation but he had never noticed until the man spoke.

"Do you have any questions about Lieutenant Tracy's condition?"

"Her name is Samantha," Alan said quietly. "She's almost twenty-five. She was a Rhodes Scholar who attended Oxford for a year before attending the Air Force Academy. Sammie is a daughter, a sister and one of the pilots who saved God knows how many lives less than twenty-four hours ago. Please do not refer to her in such a clinical manner."

The doctor looked solemn. "Mr. Tracy, I am more than aware of the heroic actions of your daughter that led to her injuries. But this is a military hospital. Most people will refer to your daughter by her rank. As a civilian -"

"My father, two of my brothers and my eldest nephew either were or are military," Alan interrupted. "So I understand rank and protocol. But Sammie is my baby. I don't care how old she is." Sighing, Alan continued. "I'm sorry. Please – what's the prognosis for my daughter?"

Pulling up a chair, the doctor nodded. "I'm Dr. Greg Sheppard – also known as Major Sheppard.

"Don't be offended if I call you doctor and not Major," Alan said calmly, not really looking at the doctor, preferring to keep his focus on Sammie.

"Lieutenant Tracy's injuries could have been much worse," Dr. Sheppard said calmly. "But her surgery went well and I am feeling very optimistic."

"So if she's going to be alright," Alan asked, "why is Sammie still unconscious?"

Dr. Sheppard looked over his notes before refocusing on the anxious father. "We have placed Lieutenant Tracy in a medically induced coma. It is our opinion that in order to give your daughter the best chance at a full recovery, Lieutenant Tracy should be kept under for at least a full week. We will begin to bring her around after that but it may take up to three or four days before she can leave the ICU."

"What about the respirator?" Alan asked, still sickened at the sight of the tube sticking out of his daughter's mouth.

"Lieutenant Tracy suffered from respiratory distress from when her jet crashed," Dr. Sheppard explained. "And with the head trauma as well, it would be for the best to place as little stress on her as possible."

Brushing back her hair, Alan nodded. His experience with International Rescue had forced him to restrain or even sedate rescue victims on more than one occasion, for the patient's own well-being.

Looking relieved at how readily his patient's father was agreeing, Sheppard was about to continue when Alan Tracy spoke up.

"Is it really necessary for a week-long coma? Surely, two or three days could be just as well."

Dr. Sheppard looked thoughtful. "Mr. Tracy, are you aware that out of the five people in your daughter's squadron, two are dead and Major Thompson is in ICU, and he may not make it? How would Lieutenant Tracy react to that knowledge?"

Alan grimaced. His daughter was every inch a Tracy. "She would blame herself," Alan acknowledged.

Standing, Dr. Sheppard looked in concern at the elder Tracy. "Mr. Tracy, is there anyone we can call? You shouldn't be dealing with this alone. I – well, I was led to understand you have a rather large family and that you were all quite close."

Sighing, Alan ran a hand over his face. "Most of my family is on Tracy Island. My second daughter, Joanna, and one of my nephews, Michael, are both in Europe. It's Spring Break for my youngest daughter, Ginny, so she is home with her mother and my son, Jeffy. My third daughter, Valerie, is a pre-med student in Boston, but she has been pulled into extra duty because so many doctors and nurses have been recruited to set up medical teams for abroad. With the exception of Val, none of my family can get here as long as the no-fly edict is on-going. Even my niece, Elizabeth, who usually lives in New York with her husband, Ian, had gone to California for Ian's sister's anniversary. I was supposed to go with them. Ian's sister is married to one of my oldest friends. But I decided to go out separately when Sam got a three day pass and was going to drive to D.C. from her base in Georgia to see me. I told Fermat I would still be there – I would just be a few days later."

Brushing a hand over Sammie's face again, Alan sighed again. "If the attacks had occurred just three hours later, Sammie would have been on her way to meet me."

"And," Major Sheppard said firmly, suddenly all military, "that would have been a disaster. Lieutenant Tracy's actions, along with that of her unit, stopped the attacks in America cold. The death toll in Europe and Asia is over one million confirmed dead, with estimates expecting that to at least double. Considering more personnel and more weaponry were dedicated to the attack here versus overseas, can you imagine the utter carnage that would have occurred? Your daughter helped save us all. She's a real hero."

Standing in the doorway, Doctor Sheppard looked on with compassion as he watched the anxious father continue to sit by his daughter's side. He had read Samantha Tracy's medical history. With the exception of an emergency appendectomy at age thirteen, any medical treatments had been done strictly out patient, usually with her father and mother right there. The one overnight hospital stay, the appendectomy, had occurred while she was at a New York boarding school. Due to the emergency status, it had been her aunt, one Julie Tracy and a cousin, Jason, who had been there. Jason Tracy had been on leave from the Air Force Academy at the time and was waiting for his parents in Manhattan when the call came in. While other relatives had been in the area, they had all been minors at the time, male cousins attending a "brother" boarding school down the road from Samantha's. This was only mentioned due to the "break-out" of several of them from their school to visit the teenager while she was recovering.

It was easy to see that for all their wealth and success, the Tracys were a close family. And the love and devotion Alan Tracy was showing to his daughter was something he had doubtlessly passed on to his children. But Major Sheppard had to wonder where Samantha Tracy had learned the selflessness and courage that had made her a national hero. Thinking of her legendary grandfather, the doctor wondered if that was a natural Tracy trait as well.

Alan was oblivious to the doctor's scruitiny, not moving from his daughter's side until the nurse came in to do some checks.

Glancing at the bedside table where Alan's cold cup of tea – he had never learned to like coffee like his father, instead preferring tea as his father-in-law did – Kelly smiled at the paper binder.

"Working on a new book?" Kelly asked with a smile.

Alan shook his head. "No, I tend to use my notebook computer for that. This was a paper Sammie wrote in high school. She was fourteen. One of her old teachers from Gifford Academy attended my book signing in D.C. She had found it in a file when she was cleaning out her office. It seems Ms. Baker is about to become the new headmistress and she was in the process of moving when she discovered a file of reports from years ago."

Smiling, he shook his head. "Turned out, Ms. Baker thought I was the "light-weight" of Jeff Tracy's son. She said Sammie's paper made her curious about me. She's now a major fan of my books and was impressed at how I used my engineering work for Tracy Enterprises in the technical aspect of my books."

"Was the paper about you?" Kelly asked, curious.

Alan handed her the report, letting her read the cover.

""Never a Dull Moment: How Alan Tracy Changed his Family – and the World" by Samantha K. Tracy," the nurse read aloud. Flipping it open to the first page, Kelly continued.

"Most of the world knows Alan S. Tracy in two ways. Either as the youngest son of American legend, Jefferson G. Tracy or A.S. Tracy, the award-winning author of some of the best-selling science fiction novels of all-time. I know him as Dad. And in this paper, I will explain how he was like most people, changing the immediate world around him, in much the same way as all of us will to our friends and family by simply existing. But unlike most people, Alan Tracy helped change the world at large – and I am not sure he even knows it."

Looking up at Alan, Kelly smiled. "Did you know you were your daughter's hero?"

Tears filled his blue eyes, eyes identical to his daughter's if she had been awake, as Alan shook his head. "Not until I read that paper. How did you know she felt like that?"

Kelly smiled. "Because that is one of the clearest cases of hero-worship I have ever seen."

Alan smiled softly as he brushed Sammie's hair back again. "And she's one of mine."

_

* * *

_

Eight Days Later

Alan turned up the volume on the news, talking to Sammie on occasion about stories that appeared on the vid. The doctors had reduced his daughter's medication to allow her to regain consciousness, but so far she was still unresponsive.

"_And now, nine days after the terrorists' attacks that hit eleven cities in Europe and Asia, life is beginning to be reclaimed. The no-fly edict has gone from absolutely everyone out of the sky to plans for commercial flights to be resumed tomorrow."_

The newscaster looked solemn, but then that was the norm for the media in wake of a tragedy on this scale.

_"Some of the first machines allowed back in the skies were International Rescue. The men and women, often called The World's Heroes, were some of the first on the scene in Europe and Asia, helping to save countless people trapped in the rubble. While almost two million people are now confirmed dead, authorities have said the number could have been much higher if not for International Rescue."_

"_Not only did the teams save countless people, but in time, the group's organization worked with non-profit organizations like the Red Cross and Tracy Charitable Trust, in order to get medical teams and earth-moving equipment to the disaster zones, allowing for even more people to be saved."_

"Thank God that didn't happen here," Kelly said softly as she entered the room.

Alan hit mute, turning to the nurse with a soft smile. "Or thank Sammie."

"Oh, trust me," Kelly laughed. "Plenty of people will want to thank Lieutenant Tracy. Rumor has it she is being considered for the Congressional Medal of Honor. How many people can say they have someone who won that in their family?"

Shrugging, Alan turned back to his daughter. "Well, Dad never won one, but my oldest brother, Scott, did. Dad won the Medal of Valor. My oldest nephew, Jason, is supposed to be getting a Medal of Valor when he returns from the Mars Mission. Oddly enough, it will be for the same reason as Dad – saving a space mission."

Kelly shook her head. "Has anyone ever told you that your family is a bunch of overachievers?"

"And you think that is news to me?" Alan smiled.

Finishing her check of Sammie's vitals, Kelly shook her head again. "Well, commercial flights should allow your family to start arriving tomorrow."

"Today," Alan corrected with a yawn. "Dad called in some favors and Kate called in some – well, something between favors and threats. Tracy One and Two are being temporarily reclassified as government flights. Two will stop in California long enough to pick up my niece Elizabeth, her husband and my nephew, D.J., in Los Angeles. My nephew, Michael, and my daughter, Joanna, will be here in a day or so. They are coming back from Europe but are flying into Boston so that they can get my daughter, Valerie. Then that group will be driving down."

"How many people are coming?" Kelly asked, torn between shock and amusement.

Silently counting, Alan thought for a moment. "Twenty-six. My wife, my other four children, four brothers, four sister-in-laws, one niece, her husband, six nephews – with one still being enroute back from Mars, otherwise there would be seven – my dad, my oldest sister-in-law, Kate's, father who moved to the Island after his wife died earlier this year, my oldest friend, Fermat, Fermat's wife and father. Huh. I wonder if the Hackenbackers will be flying in with Tracy Two or coming out separately." Seeing Kelly's shock, Alan chuckled.

"I know. We're not a group, we're a riot."

* * *

Still talking softly to his still daughter, Alan brushed her hair back. "You really thought of me as a hero? Aw, Sammie – did I ever tell you how you saved my life? Well, you at least brought me out of a coma. Your birth-cries pulled me from a coma. I should have known how precious you would be to me then. Do you remember the song I used you when you were little?"

Brushing back at Sammie's face again, Alan began to softly sing to his daughter.

_In my daughter's eyes  
I am a hero I am strong and wise  
And I know no fear  
But the truth is plain to see  
She was sent to rescue me  
I see who I want to be  
In my daughter's eyes_

_In my daughter's eyes_  
_Everyone is equal_  
_Darkness turns to light_  
_And the world is at peace_  
_This miracle God gave to me_  
_Gives me strength when I am weak_  
_I find reason to believe_  
_In my daughter's eyes_

_And when she wraps her hand  
around my finger  
Oh, It puts a smile in my heart  
Everything becomes a little clearer  
I realize what life is all about  
It's hanging on when your heart  
Has had enough  
It's giving more when you feel  
Like giving up  
I've seen the light  
It's in my daughter's eyes_

_In my daughter's eyes_  
_I can see the future_  
_A reflection of who I am_  
_And what will be_  
_And though she'll grow_  
_And someday leave_  
_Maybe raise a family_  
_When I'm gone I hope you see_  
_How happy she made me_  
_For I'll be there_  
_In my daughter's eyes_

* * *

Tin-Tin Tracy stood in the doorway of her firstborn daughter's hospital room. Seeing Alan softly singing to their unconscious daughter made the woman smile as she recalled when her husband used to sing that same song to Sammie when they were new parents. Sucking in a deep breath, Tin-Tin was determined to give strength to Alan. He had seemed exhausted and somewhat strained when he would call home.

"He looks tired," Jeff Tracy commented softly from behind his youngest daughter-in-law. The fact that Alan hadn't even noticed the two of them standing there said a great deal about how exhausted Alan had to be.

Nodding her agreement, Tin-Tin also noted the dark circles under Alan's eyes and – if she wasn't mistaken – there were some silver hairs hidden among his golden blonde hair. Most, due to the close colors, would not notice it. But Tin-Tin had been observing Alan since they were ten years old. There was little about him she would not notice.

"Alan," Jeff called out, trying to keep his voice light but stopping when he saw the haunted look in his youngest son's usually bright blue eyes. It was at that moment that it really hit him that for all the hours he had spent beside hospital beds, none of his sons really had. Oh, there had been the usual childhood accidents and injuries, and, of course, John's anxious vigil when Emily had nearly died in childbirth with their son, Keith. Even the small things had been easier due to the fact that each of his sons and their wives had four brother and an equal number of sister-in-laws ready, willing and able to be by any bedsides, if only to allow short breaks. Alan had been alone, for more than a week, waiting for his oldest daughter to awaken from a coma. The heartache and sheer exhaustion that Alan was feeling was clear in the younger man's all-too expressive eyes.

Standing up, Alan waited for the couple to come to him. Briefly kissing his wife and hugging her, Alan allowed Tin-Tin to take his seat beside Sammie, holding their firstborn's hand as tightly as Alan had for more than a week. Turning to his father, Alan found himself pulled into a fierce, protective embrace, much as he had been so many times in his youth.

"Dad," Alan whispered shakily. "How could you do it? How could you sit by and wonder if your child will ever wake up?"

"Faith," Jeff said quietly. "Faith that your child will be strong enough to fight and love you enough to come back to you, and the hope that the love you gave them will be enough to give them the strength to fight in the first place. And Samantha is nothing if not strong."

"Still sounds like a vicious cycle," Alan muttered.

"It's a cycle," a new voice added.

Alan turned from Jeff's embrace to see his oldest brother – and in many ways, second father – standing in the doorway. Scott's brown eyes were filled with concern as he approached his youngest brother and pulled him into a comforting embrace.

"It's a cycle but it's not vicious. It's just life, Sprout," Scott said as he held Alan close.

Chuckling, Alan leaned back. "Scott, my oldest daughter is of an age that she could make me a grandfather without me freaking out."

"Too much, at least," Tin-Tin mumbled from her seat.

"So?" Scott snarked. "You will always be our baby. Live with it."

"Scott, Alan knows that," Kate said cheerfully as she entered the room, pausing only slightly at the sight of her niece. Following her glance, Alan gave a small smile.

"It was worse seeing her with the tube down her throat," Alan said wryly.

"Yeah, well," Scott grumbled. "We are here now, with more either downstairs or enroute. So – Kate's arranged for several suites at the Ritz-Carlton. I'll call the car service and get you checked in. Your bags are still here, right? You said when you called you had the hotel send them over when you got word that Sammie would be brought here. So we'll just get you there -"

"I'm not leaving Sammie, Scott," Alan said firmly. "I've been with her every moment I could and I am not going to any hotel until she wakes up."

"Dammit, Alan," Scott snapped. "You are about ready to collapse. You'll be no good to Sammie if you do."

"I said I'm not leaving, Scott. My place is here," Alan retorted.

"Alan, really," Kate argued. "Between all of us, we can watch over Sammie long enough for you to sleep in a bed and eat a real meal. Please, let us do this."

"You know," Alan said calmly as he turned back to his daughter, "I don't think all of you should even be in here. They do have limits on ICU."

"Sammie's doctor is hoping we can convince you to go get some rest before you become a patient," Kate snapped, worry for Alan overriding her common sense.

"Well, it's not going to happen," Alan argued as his voice rose slightly.

"Alan," Jeff said calmly, trying to remember how annoyed Emily would be if he failed to keep his own blood pressure down. "You don't want to make yourself sick. We're here now, let us help."

"Dad, I am glad you're here," Alan snapped. "But I'm not leaving Sammie."

Tin-Tin looked on, eyes wide, torn between siding with her husband and worry over his exhausted state.

"Alan, you are heading to the hotel and that is it!" Scott yelled. "You need to rest. Damn it, do you want to end up collapsing or having a heart attack or something?"

"What is going on in here?" a new voice asked. Kelly entered the room, glaring at the conscious occupants.

"This is an ICU. That means we have sick or badly injured patients. So can you carry on your arguments elsewhere?"

Kate grinned. She liked this woman. Jason was due home in just under two months – she wondered if she could arrange an introduction.

"I am not leaving my daughter," Alan growled.

"Alan -" Scott started yelling again before a soft voice interrupted.

"Will you guys keep it down? My head hurts."

The entire room froze as if they had all been turned to statues before hopeful eyes turned towards the bed.

For the first time in more than a week, the bright blue eyes of Samantha Tracy were cracked open, wincing against the overhead lights before catching sight of her father. Smiling at Alan, she gave a small shake of her head before groaning in pain.

"Dad, you look like Hell," Sammie grumbled.

Kneeling by her bed, Alan kissed her forehead as he brushed back her hair. "And you have never looked so beautiful to me in your life."

Kelly came over to Sammie's bed, checking her vitals before nodding. "Alright, Captain Tracy, I'll get the doctor. But you are responding well. Do you always bounce back this easily?"

"Sure," Sammie shrugged, wincing at the pain. "I'm a Tracy." As her family all beamed, Sammie looked up at the nurse. "Um, I'm not a captain."

"You are now," Kelly said cheerfully. "Heck, if you were old enough, they would let you run for President." Looking over at the Tracys, Kelly nodded. "I'll get the doctor."

Once Kelly had left, Alan grabbed a chair and sat next to his daughter while Tin-Tin remained across the bed and the others gathered at the foot.

"It's good to see you back with us, Sammie," Kate said with a smile. "Glad to see that reckless and insane isn't limited to my branch of the Tracy off-spring."

Sammie smiled, exhaustion already pulling her back under even as the Dr. Sheppard came back in. Listening to her father being badgered by her family, even her gentle mother softly admonished him to get some rest.

"_I love my family," _Sammie thought as she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Sammie Tracy smiled as she bounced her two year old brother on her hip. Jeffy chanted "Sam" repeatedly even as Jason reviewed the improvements for Thunderbird Three with his uncle and father.

"Uncle Alan," the oldest Tracy grandchild said even as he took the youngest from Sammie's arms and gave the toddler a light bounce. "These ideas for the booster rockets are great. We'll have much greater maneuverability once they get installed."

Alan smiled at his nephew – he really had missed the kid for the two years he had been gone. "Well," he shrugged, "the family always said there was never a dull moment with me, right, Sammie?"

Sammie looked confused. "Where did that come from, Dad?"

Pulling a folder from behind his other paperwork, Alan barely noticed Scott pulling his son – still carrying Jeffy – from the room.

Looking at the report, Sammie's confusion shifted – to more confusion. "Dad – where did you get this? I wrote this in high school."

"Your old high school English teacher," Alan smiled. "She approached me at the book signing and gave it to me."

"So…" Sammie hemmed before continuing. "What did you think?"

"I think -" Alan sighed. "I think reading it over and over while you were in the coma and the rest of the family couldn't get there was the only thing that kept me sane. Ten minutes after Ms. Baker left, Major Greene entered the bookstore."

Alan's mind flashed back to that moment three months earlier…

_Nodding and smiling, Alan tried to not yawn as yet another college student rambled on about the symbolism of the character in his last book. He wondered what the kid would think if Alan was to reveal the character was loosely based on Alan's sophomore English teacher._

_Alan wasn't sure what drew his attention, but suddenly he looked up and saw a man in an Air Force uniform approaching him._

"_Mr. Alan Tracy?" When Alan nodded, the man – whose badge said Greene and whose clusters Alan noted to be that of a Major – nodded in return. "Can I speak with you in private?"_

_Alan began to lead the officer over a small room off to the side, trying to ignore the whispers of one of the college students._

"_He's revealed too much about aliens among us," one whispered loudly even as Alan shut the door behind them._

"_Mr. Tracy," Major Greene began, "I'm not sure if you have heard, but there were multiple attacks in Europe and Asia this morning -"_

"_Is it Jo? Or Michael?" Alan blurted out._

"_Excuse me?" the major asked in confusion._

"_My daughter, Joanna, and my nephew, Michael, are both in Europe – But why would the military be contacting us? They are both civilians. In fact, only my nephew, Jason, and my oldest Sammie are -"_

_Alan drifted off at the way Major Greene stiffened when he mentioned his oldest child. "But – but Sammie isn't in Europe. She's stationed in Georgia. In fact, she should be here shortly. Sammie got a three-day pass and she's supposed to come up and see me."_

"_I'm not sure about that, Mr. Tracy, but Lieutenant Tracy's unit flew interceptor when an attack was about to occur here. Until certain facts can be released, all I can say is countless lives were saved by your daughter's actions."_

"_Is she -" Alan's voice trailed off, unwilling to say the unthinkable._

"_Lieutenant Tracy is in the hospital," Major Greene said gently. "We should get there as soon as we can. Her jet crashed not far from here, so she has been admitted to Petraeus Medical Center just outside D.C."_

"_I should call my family," Alan said, shock making him numb as he pulled out his phone. _

_Major Greene shook his head. "Until the President announces what happened, I would rather you didn't. Besides, there is a no-fly edict about to come down. Just until we are sure what has happened."_

_Numb, Alan allowed himself to be led out to a waiting car…_

Looking up at Sammie with a smile, Alan brushed back a bit of her hair just as he had all those days in the hospital. "It meant a lot to me, Sammie. That my family saw me as being that important made me feel – well, great."

"You are important, Dad," Sammie smiled, hugging her father. "And if I could have written in International Rescue -"

"Your grandfather would have had a heart attack a decade earlier," Alan said wryly.

Shaking her head, Sammie laughed. "The family's right, Dad. With you around – there's never a dull moment." Tilting her head, she grinned. "Can I be you when I grow up?"

Alan smiled and hugged his daughter closer. "Sammie – I think you already are."

* * *

_**A/N - Thanks for the support on this story. So yes, Alan's daughter, as a teen, wrote the paper on her father by interviewing his father and brothers. Alan, if you remember John's chapter, was on Thunderbird Five when Sammie was home interviewing her family. Yes, she was at boarding school and it is a bummer Alan missed her when she was home, but that could happen once in a while. It certainly didn't hurt their relationship. Oh, and yes, Sammie was born (in "Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea") while her father was in a coma in another bed in the Island infirmary. Alan, in my stories, is often thought to have some level of psi like his wife's family. How else could he resist the Hood when others couldn't? So if both he and Tin-Tin had some level of psychic abilities, what are the chances one of more of their children would have? Sammie at least connects deeply with her father. I am considering writing an add-on to the Tracy Series by exploring the relationship the each Tracy man had with their first born. What do you think?**_

_**OK, enough rambling. Thanks for everything. Laters! - CC**_


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